Fight or Flight
by Mikki13
Summary: As her world ceases to make sense, Sarah finds comfort in the most likely of sources. In the process, she realizes that some things are worth fighting for.


**A/N: **So on my first day back as a real human (see my note in "A Collection of Dates"), I really didn't intend to finish an entire chapter of ACoD. I also didn't intend to write an entire other fic. But then I had an online conversation with **mxpw**, and suddenly I found myself entirely inspired. In fact, I found myself so inspired that I stayed up until 1 am to finish this gem, back pain be damned. I only hope you enjoy the finished result. ;-)

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. If it were, Charah would be expecting their second child by now.

~*~

She's terrified. And while she'll never admit it, while she'll hold the truth deep inside like she's held her feelings close to her heart for years, she's never been more frightened in her life. She's not sure when this all started. She's not sure when everything began to unravel, when it all began to fall apart. She desperately wants to regain control, but she doesn't know how. And she's terrified to even do that much. She, who's fought assassins and terrorists alike. She, who's been tortured to the point of unconsciousness. She, who's risen to the top of the CIA. She's so frightened that she lays awake at nights, wondering what's going to happen next.

She knows it's ridiculous. She knows she needs to let this go. She needs to let _him _go. She's a CIA agent, an operative of the United States. A professional. But even more than that, she's a woman who's spent her entire life dealing with pain, with loss. And she doesn't know if she can handle it again.

And that's the real problem. Because no matter what she might tell herself, no matter how hard she might try to pretend like she's only worried about the safety of others, a part of her is terrified that she's going to lose him. She's terrified that she's going to lose someone she's not sure she ever had. She's terrified she's going to watch him diminish, watch him slowly fade away until there's nothing left. Until the man she fell in love with has completely vanished, and she's left staring at an empty shell. And in that moment, when the Chuck she knows is completely gone, she will know that it's her fault.

_How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are_ that guy?_

She replays that night repeatedly in her mind. She imagines herself telling him something entirely different. She imagines realizing her ultimate plans sooner. Realizing that she needs him in her life. Realizing that she can never leave. And she imagines herself telling him when he first confronted her, instead of telling him that she was going off with Bryce. Because maybe then, her Chuck would still be here. Maybe then, her Chuck would have never begun to leave.

Perhaps this is why she tried to get him to run away. Perhaps she knew then what she knows now: she needed to get him away from the Agency. She needed to get him away from the lies, from the danger, from the threat of his virtual nonexistence. She needed to protect him from it all. And when he rejected her, when he left her standing on a train platform in a foreign country, perhaps the reason she felt so much pain wasn't because he'd broken her heart. Perhaps it was because she feared what would happen next.

In the Academy, they teach recruits about flight or fight. They teach them that fighting is always better than fleeing, unless you're certain that you're going to lose. And even then, you should only flee if you know it'll give you the upper hand. If there's any chance that the other side will gain any kind of advantage, then you should stay and fight to the death.

To Sarah, this was always clear and distinct, black and white. It was always simple. She never ran; she always encountered the threat head on. There was never any reason to flee. There was never any reason to run from danger when it was danger that she was trying to guard against.

Perhaps it was because of this that she never needed to acknowledge the next lesson she'd learned in the Agency. She had never needed to remember the warning that a third option was always possible. She had never needed to remember that rather than fighting or fleeing, one could always freeze. Because freezing had never been an option. It had never been a possibility. She had never even considered freezing. Until now.

But as she sits with her arms folded tightly across her chest, the rhythmic beat of the fountain pulsing behind her back, she realizes that she finally understands what her instructors meant. She finally knows that freezing has always been an option, a possibility. Because for the past few months, she's been frozen in place, watching with terror as her world has slowly come apart. As _his _world has slowly dissolved, leaving in its place a Chuck she's afraid she won't be able to recognize.

She almost jumps when his voice sounds from behind. "Sarah?" he asks groggily, rubbing his eyes as he shuffles to the fountain. "Is that you?"

"Hey," she says softly, willing her lips to curl upward into a gentle smile. "What's up?"

"What's up?" he repeats, taking a seat by her side. "It's, um," he checks his watch, "Two in the morning. Is everything okay?"

"Sure," she replies, shrugging even as she feels a guarded shield falling into place upon her face. "I was just having trouble sleeping."

"Right," Chuck says, his forehead crinkling in concern. "I know that I often find myself visiting someone else's fountain when I have trouble sleeping. It's a real insomnia reliever."

Sarah rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Cute," she states, elbowing him in the side. And when his face splits into his familiar charming grin, sending his cinnamon eyes alight, her own smile increases in wattage and a sense of relief pervades her slender frame.

"I thought so," he nodded, then studies her intently. She has to avert her gaze from the weight of his stare. Chuck Bartowski has always been good at jumping to conclusions, but he's also had a way of reading her when he looks too closely. And right now, she's not sure that she's ready to be read. "Why are you really here, Sarah?" he finally asks, the caring quality of his voice causing a surge of warmth to rush through her chest.

"I told you," she says carefully, staring into the starry night, "I couldn't sleep." But even as she says it, even as the words emanate from her lips, she knows they won't be enough. Things have been too strained, she's been too aloof, and eventually Chuck is going to start demanding answers.

So when he falls silent, his arm brushing gently against the sleeve of her jacket, she finds herself holding her breath. She finds herself waiting for the bomb to fall. She finds herself relieved that they've finally come to this point. "I'd do it differently if I could," he says after a few minutes, gazing at her through soulful brown eyes. "I'd go back and change –"

"Chuck," she interrupts, nearly writhing under the intensity of his expression. "It's okay, you don't have to –"

"Please, Sarah," he cuts in, placing his hand on her leg. Her gaze travels to his nimble fingers, a prickle of electricity rushing through her thigh at his touch. "I need to say this."

"Okay," she murmurs, taking a deep breath as she returns her line of sight to his own.

Swallowing gently, he scoots forward so that he's sitting directly beside her. "If I could do it differently," he begins, unconsciously running his fingertips along her jeans, "I'd take it all back." Sighing deeply, he sucks his lower lip into his mouth as he considers what he's going to say next. Inadvertently, Sarah's eyes flicker to the soft pink skin held captive by his teeth. "I mean, I don't know if I'd run," he confesses, and she blinks in surprise. _Is this really his way of making me feel better?_ "But I'd tell you why first. Sarah," he says, running his hand through his disheveled brown hair, "I still think I'm doing the right thing. I still think I'd become a spy, even if given the chance again."

"But why?" she blurts, her features hardening. "You've seen what they want you to become, Chuck," she appeals, her voice rising slightly. She knows she should stop. She knows she should leave. They've told her that the only way to keep him safe is to forego all emotions, to extinguish all feelings. But she's tired of this game; she's tired of this war. She's tired of pretending not to feel things that she's ignored for too long. "Would you really willingly go through this again?"

"Yes," he confirms, nodding sharply. He doesn't even hesitate, and Sarah's chest twists painfully as a result.

"But why?" she demands again, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"Because," he says calmly, taking a deep, slow breath, "It's the right thing to do."

She knows her voice is way too loud. She knows her emotions are beginning to rage out of control. But for once, she doesn't stop herself. For once, she forgets to freeze, she forgets to flee, and she begins to fight. "How can you say that?" she demands, her voice cracking as she scoots away from his hand. Almost immediately, she feels a slight chill at the loss of contact, which she promptly ignores. "How can you say it's the right thing when they want you to become the world's best assassin, Chuck?"

Chuck's eyes widen as he watches her, and Sarah takes a few quick breaths to calm herself. She's never been so out of control; she's never been so emotional. She's not used to wearing her heart on her sleeve, and it's something she's not completely comfortable with. Actually, it's not something she's comfortable with at all. Her mask falls back into place as she returns her arms to their crossed position over her chest, waiting for Chuck to answer her questions.

"Don't you get it, Sarah?" he pleads, his expression beseeching as he gazes at her through gleaming eyes. "I've got this thing in my head that can change the world. I've got this amazing ability to protect innocent people. Ellie. Morgan. _You_. What kind of person would I be if I turned my back on that?"

It wasn't exactly what she was expecting to hear, even after watching the video tape left by Carina. It wasn't exactly what she was prepared to hear, even after running all possible scenarios through her mind. So when he finally speaks, she has to take a moment to process his words. "You don't have to be a hero anymore, Chuck," she says quietly, staring at her hands. "You've done enough."

"How can you say that?" he replies, his tone still pleading. "How can you say that when you've spent the last ten years risking your life for the same people I'm trying to protect?"

_Because it was supposed to be different,_ she thinks. _Because we were supposed to be free. Because we were finally going to have that normal life._ "Because I'm afraid you're never going to be the same," she says instead, pursing her lips when she realizes she's actually said it aloud. Even after all this time, even after all these sleepless nights, she's never voiced her fears. She's never allowed him to see her insecurities. But now, as his features soften and he scoots toward her once more, she's almost relieved that she finally has.

"I'm always going to be me, Sarah," he murmurs, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "This isn't going to change me."

"You can't know that, Chuck," she appeals, glancing back up into his warm gaze. "You don't know what the CIA is capable of doing to you."

"Come on, Sarah," he prods, "This is _me _we're talking about here."

As he says the words, a gentle tenderness washes through his gaze and a crooked smile spreads across his face. Staring at the transformation she sees within him, Sarah's breath catches in her throat and she simply stares. It's almost like waking up from a nightmare, or discovering water after wandering the desert for months. Watching him now is almost like returning to normal, or at least as close to normal as she's ever known it. Because somewhere deep inside, her Chuck is still there. Her Chuck is still viable. Her Chuck is still real.

But even as she continues to stare, even as she continues to drink in his expression, she can't help the terror from rekindling within her gut. She can't help the panic from swelling through her chest. And before she knows what she's going to say, she finds herself speaking her greatest fear. "Don't leave me, Chuck," she murmurs, raising her hand to cup his cheek. It's the most vulnerable she's made herself to him in months, and for a moment the fear rises again.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises. And then he leans ever nearer, until his lips finally brush softly against her parted mouth.

"Neither am I," she breathes into his kiss. Her fingers travel from his cheek to the back of his head, tangling themselves in his hair as she falls into the electrical warmth of his embrace. And as the kiss heats up, and she runs her tongue along his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to her passionate advances, the fear ebbs away and she realizes how true her words really are. She's not going anywhere. She's not fleeing, she's not freezing, she's not giving up now. She's going to stay and fight for as long as it takes to keep Chuck safe, to keep him here, to keep him _real_. After everything they've been through, she owes him that much. After everything they've been through, she owes him everything.

And as the cool night air whips through her hair and the fountain continues to splash behind her back, she succumbs to his touch and lets her terror fade away.

**Fin.**


End file.
